Dimentichisi
by Darkness's Angel
Summary: She wished to forget, wanted to rid herself of him, and he was torn between his emotions and his duty.
1. Part I :: Forgotten Wishes

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Dimentichisi

Summary: They only thing she wanted, was the only thing she could never have. She wanted to forget.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Part I : Forgotten Wishes

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She wanted to forget.

Such a simple sentence, yet the emotion behind it was so intense that nothing could change it. There were so many things she wanted to let go of, to part with, yet she could not, and she still hasn't.

Her heart used to race every time she saw him. Her breath would catch every time he smiled at her. He used to mean everything and anything to her, and she supposes part of him still does.

Love isn't all fairy tales, roses, and sweet whispers. It comes with pain, hurt, anger, and depression. It is something that never truly goes away, yet can be buried deep within.

It's a very contradicting thing. She hates that she loves him, but she loves that she hates him. Everything was so fucked up, she muses, still is.

She was never really supposed to fall for him. All the signs told her it was forbidden, he a muggle-hating, pureblood, Slytherin, she a muggleborn, Gryffindor. It should not have happened, but the truth is, it did. Everyone thought she would marry either Ron or Harry, have several children, and live happily ever after, but that didn't occur either.

It had happened in their Seventh year. They had been chosen as Head Boy and Girl, which neither was too pleased about, since it had meant that they would be working close to each other everyday, and sleep a few mere feet away from the other.

She had been stressing much too much, even more than her earlier years, and he was just being the sadistic Slytherin he was raised to be, when finally she had had enough.

"Shut the bloody hell up Malfoy!" She screamed at him, her eyes blazing in hatred.

Malfoy sneered at her then replied, "I suggest you remember who you are talking to, Mudblood."

He walked closer to her, so that they were barely an inch apart. Her normally warm, brown eyes, were seething in irritation and anger, glaring up at him, meeting his hard, cold, gray eyes.

"I am well aware of who I'm talking to," she whispered furiously.

He pushed her hard against the wall, one hand supporting him next to her head, the other lying near her waist. "Don't make me do something we will both regret Granger," he stated.

She glowered at him, almost challengingly. At the moment she didn't care. "What are you going to do ferret?" she dared.

He moved his hand slightly, making her aware of how close he actually was to her. They both stared at each other in silence for what seemed like forever.

Neither could recall who started it, but with one swift motion, his lips were on hers, kissing her roughly. One of his hands went around her waist, bringing her closer to him, to deepen the kiss, the other went to her hair, pulling it out of the neat pony tail it had previously been in. She had her hands on his chest, as if to push him away, but then moved them around his neck so that they were buried in his hair.

That was how it had began.

For the next six months, they snuck around, snogging in the halls when no one was around, a quick shag here and there. Their relationship, if you could call it that, was well hidden from everyone. In front of their peers, they would trade insults, and throw curses at each other, but behind closed doors, it was a completely different story.

Closing her eyes, she blinked back tears. Memories of him came pouring in, not leaving her alone, which was what she wanted the most. They had ended their relationship the night before, actually, he had ended it, and it was all she could think about at the moment.

Hence, she would give anything to forget.

Staring into her mirror, she gently twirled the long, brown, tresses. 'He would have wanted me to leave it down,' she thought bitterly. Closing her eyes for a moment, she could feel his kisses, and his touch on her skin. She could hear his voice whispering to her, and the passion in his usually expressionless gray eyes. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she put her hair up into a high ponytail.

Checking to make sure, nothing wrong was visible, she exited her room to meet Harry and Ron outside the Gryffindor Common Room.

She smiled softly at her friend's antics, neither, however noticed that it did not reach her eyes. As they stepped into the Great Hall, she inhaled sharply, determined not to look over at the Slytherin table, the trio sauntered across the room, sat down at their respective places at the Gryffindor table.

Feeling the small hairs on the base of her neck stand up, she looked up, and made eye contact with the one person she really didn't want to. For a moment, she swore she saw sadness, regret, and something else pass through the steely gray orbs, but as fast as it had come, it left, leaving her staring into blank eyes.

Turning away, she shut her eyes tightly, wishing she could forget.

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Author's Note - Hermione/Draco is not my normal forte, but I decided to try my hand at something a little bit different than usual. Hope you all enjoyed this. Please review and let me know what you thought, it would be greatly appreciated. The title _roughly _means, it is forgotten in Italian.


	2. Part II :: Truths

**Dimentichisi**

**Summary: **He is torn between feelings and duty, wondering if what he chose to make his past, should be.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Part II : Truths

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He hated it.

It wasn't supposed to happen, they had both known that. Yet, here he was, mulling over her, sulking over a _mudblood._

Picking his head off of his hand, he looked at the green and black colorings of his bed. She wasn't a mudblood, or at least he hadn't called her that since, since everything had started.

Sighing, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. No use thinking over the past, and that's what Hermione was, the past, _his_ past.

But did he really want her to be?

Angrily, he threw his potions book against the wall, watching as it hit the floor with a loud slam. He had to stop thinking like that. The weren't together, technically they had never even officially been together. He just ended a potential relationship, one that was impossible.

There was no way that they could have been together. He was the son of a deatheater, a well-known one at that. He was expected to become one himself, he was supposed to marry a high class, pureblood witch.

He wasn't supposed to fall for a mud-muggleborn.

Smirking, he remembered the incident in the Great Hall prier. He couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. He had been doing it for so long, it had become automatic to him, natural even She had been wearing her normal uniform, her hair pulled back in a wretched ponytail.

He didn't understand why she had started doing that. The year before, her hair had lost almost all of it's once untamable bushiness, and had gradually become straighter, which is why it puzzled him to why she always put it up.

It wasn't until she looked up at him, catching his eye, that he realized she had known he was watching her.

Draco noticed that the sparkle that had once been in her eye, had dimmed. Before he was able to think more on it, he saw a speck of concern looking back at him. It was then he knew he had been exposing things that he shouldn't had. Draco only hoped that she wouldn't be able to realize exactly what it was he was displaying.

Draco had waited a few more moments, after she had gazed away, then stood up, and left the Great Hall, which brought him to where he was currently.

The leer that had previously been on his face, was wiped off the second he heard a tapping sound at his window. Draco slowly got up, and walked over, and opened the window.

A large, gray, eagle flew in, and perched itself upon his bed. It's gleaming, shiny eyes, held its full attention on Draco.

He grasped the letter from the bird, before pushing it out the window. The bird seemed to glare at Draco's treatment of it, then soared out.

Draco turned the letter over, his hand tracing the dark green M emblem on the seal. Slowly, he opened it, pulling out the piece of parchment.

Draco,

My sources tell me that you and the mudblood are over. I am pleased to hear this. That girl was never good enough for you. You have seen that it was a nuisance, and nothing good would come of it. Someone more like Miss Parkinson would be more acceptable.

Father

"How loveable," Draco sneered, "Pansy is revolting, nothing like-"

At the mention of Hermione, he stiffened visibly, then shut his eyes. Throwing the letter across the room, he rubbed his temples.

Pansy, his father wanted him to be with Pansy. "Just because she is a pureblood," Draco muttered, "She's not good enough."

Deciding on some fresh air, Draco stalked out of his room, his portrait door closing quietly after him. He walked a few feet into the Common Room, when he stopped, his expression becoming almost soft.

Hermione had incidentally fallen asleep on the couch. A book leaned against her chest, and she sighed softly in her sleep. The fire was dimmed, but still lit, giving her an angelic-like glow. Her russet hair cascaded down the side of the pillow, except for a piece of it, which laid right across her face.

Shaking his head, he walked over, and brushed it softly back, then ran a hand down her jaw. Realizing what he was doing, he jerked his hand away, as if it had been on fire. Hardening his face, Draco turned away from her, and sauntered out of the Common Room, not looking back at her.

xxx

The cool, crisp, air hit his face, relieving his tension. He flew faster and higher, swirling and flipping in the air. If there was anything that could get his mind off of his troubles, it was this.

Draco was not as bad of a flier as he seemed to be, it was just that were Potter was risky, and natural with his ability, Draco was precise and practical. He didn't have Potter's uncanny ability to always provide the crowd with some sort of extravagant move.

Rushing to the ground, he slipped off his broom, and headed back to the castle. Passing the hall with Professor Snape's Quarters in it, he paused. He could talk to the Potions Master about this issue, after all he was his Godfather. Deciding against it, he continued on his way back to the Head Boy/Girl Room.

Hermione was still asleep on the couch when he arrived, though the firelight had gone out. Walking past her weary form, Draco stopped right in front of her.

"I'm sorry, you know," he whispered, "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Draco went back into his room, just as Hermione sat slowly, up on the couch.

"What exactly did he mean by that?" she asked allow.

The night's silence was her only answer.

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Author's Note - This comes as a surprise to me. This story was meant to be a one shot only, but I couldn't help it. Thank you for the reviews, and I'm sorry I don't have time to reply to them individually, because of all the homework my teachers decided to give us, but they are very much appreciated. I do remember someone asking why I named the story what I did. Originally, when I wrote the first part, I was thinking of titling it forgotten, or something along those lines, but it didn't seem to fit, so I looked it up in Italian, and liked it. Next part will be up soon.

Please review!


	3. Part III :: Almost

Dimentichisi

Summary: It is saddest when something is almost said, because almost doesn't count.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Part III : Almost

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He was so bloody frustrating, she thought, sitting herself beside Harry.

"Hope Snape isn't too bad today," Hermione muttered.

"When isn't he?" Harry replied distastefully.

They shared a smile, as the doors opened, revealing the Potions Master, his dark robes billowing behind him. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he barked, glaring at Parvati and Lavender as they rushed quickly to their seats.

"You will be making truth serums," he announced, "not quite as strong as Veritaserum, but still a very complicated potion. Some of you," he paused, glancing towards Malfoy, "should have no problem with it. I will be picking your partners."

The Gryffindors groaned.

"Thomas and Crabbe," Snape started.

'Please don't let it be Malfoy, Please don't let it be Malfoy,' Hermione wished.

"Parkinson and Longbottom, Goyle and Brown," he stated.

Ron gave Harry a look of relief, at least he wasn't paired with Pansy. Hermione shut her eyes.

"Zabini and Potter, Weasley and Bulstrode, Malfoy and Granger…"

Hermione's eyes shot open, and widened. Harry gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance, seeing her expression. "At least Malfoy knows what he's doing. It could be worse," he said, "You could have gotten Crabbe or Goyle."

Hermione nodded, and released his hand. At that moment, she would have chosen to work with _both_ Crabbe and Goyle instead of Malfoy. Picking up her stuff, she moved towards the back of the classroom, setting her stuff on the table, as far away from Malfoy's as possible.

She didn't even look at him.

xxx

Draco watched as Hermione walked silently over to him, and put her stuff down. 'She must still be angry,' he thought. Sighing, he lit the cauldron, and then turned his gaze towards her hands.

"You cut those too large," he commented dryly.

"No I didn't," Hermione stated, looking towards the roots, "they're the right size."

"No they aren't. Professor Snape said they needed to be smaller," he argued, "and look at me when I'm talking to you Mudblood."

In one motion, Draco put his hand under her chin, and turned her head towards him. Hermione glared defiantly at him. She knocked his hand away from her, and twirled back towards the potion. "You don't get to do that anymore," she whispered.

Draco eyed her. "What did you say?" he inquired, unable to keep his tone flat.

"I said nothing," she replied, her face blank.

Hermione added the roots into the potion, and turned it until the color was transparent. Draco nodded in approval.

"One of you will drink the potion," Snape stated, then looking at Neville, "and you ask one question. Be very cautious to what you ask. Any foolishness will not be permitted."

"I'll assume you won't be drinking it," Draco muttered. Hermione just stared at him.

"No," she agreed quietly.

"Then I suppose since one of us has to do it, so we don't fail," Draco stated, "I'll do it. Just be very mindful of what you ask Granger."

Hermione nodded, as he took the serum, and swallowed it in just one gulp. "When is this potion supposed to tale effect?" he asked, "And if it doesn't, it's your fault."

She folded her arms, and replied, "I'll ask you a test question first then."

"Fine," he said.

Debating with herself, Hermione inhaled sharply. 'It's now or never,' she thought.

"How do you feel about me?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.

"I don't hate you," Draco answered honestly.

Hermione turned so her back was facing him; her breath grew shakier. "Do you, do you love me?" Hermione questioned.

"I, um," Draco started.

"Never mind," Hermione stated, noticing Professor Snape.

"The effects of the potion should have worn off, if they haven't come see me," he announced, as the class ended.

Draco watched Hermione walked out of the room with Harry and Ron.

xxx

Hermione looked back once, and caught Draco's eye. "Almost doesn't count," she whispered to herself, "it doesn't matter."

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Author's Note - Sorry this part took a little bit longer. Some recent events in life came up. Hope you all enjoyed this. Next chapter will be up as soon as possible. Please review and let me know what you think.

Thanks to my reviewers:

bitterosemary - I'm glad I did too

Monkeystarz - lol

anafics - thank you

Nikki

Applola Snipp

liz - aww, thanks

Also, thank you to everyone else who has reviewed so far!


	4. Part IV :: Irony

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Dimentichisi

Summary: Everyone excluding her best friends, can see what they chose not to see.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Part IV : Irony

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Draco sat by the fire in the Slytherin Common Room. It was his only refuge at the moment. Ever since that Potions lesson, he had been avoiding her. Though, if he would have stopped to think about it, she was avoiding him as well. He began to spend more and more time with the Slytherins, as she did with her friends.

Draco watched Pansy and Goyle quietly talking to one another. He knew something was going on between them. It wasn't very hard to figure out. Sighing, his mind began to wonder.

'What would they think if they knew,' he thought.

They would all probably turn against him, and loathe him, if that is, they didn't already. After all, he wasn't very loveable .

Turning away from the newly-formed couple, he stared back into the firelight. It calmed him, just as she did. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes.

__

"Do you love me?"

He could hear her voice in his mind. That one question plaguing his thoughts. Draco originally thought it was because if the obscenity of the question, but later began to realize it was because he couldn't answer it.

__

"Almost doesn't count."

Hermione had whispered that as she had looked at him that day. He wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it, all he knew was that he did.

Draco didn't know how to react to that. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, and that simple fact irked him.

Opening his eyes, he found Goyle and Pansy looking at him strangely.

"Drakie," Pansy asked, "are you alright?"

"Fine, Pansy," he drawled back blankly.

"What ever you say Malfoy," Goyle said nodding to him.

Draco got up, and walked towards the portrait door, heading back to his room.

"Do you think he'll ever admit it?" Goyle questioned, looking back at Pansy.

"Admit the fact he fancies Potter's Mudblood?" she replied, "Of course not. I don't think he knows he likes her in the first place."

"I just hope he realizes it before it's too late," Goyle responded, squeezing Pansy tighter, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she whispered, nestling into his embrace.

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"You might as well give up now Harry," Ron suggested, watching his queen take Harry's bishop.

Harry just rolled his eyes, and glanced at Hermione. She smiled softly to him, as he turned back towards the game.

Sighing, she gazed back to her book. Turning the page, Hermione made sure her Transfiguration book covered it. It wasn't a very well known fact that Hogwarts'-Smartest-Witch-in-a-Century was into reading muggle romance novels.

'Life isn't always like this,' she mused, pursing her lips together, reading the most romantic scene in the book.

Getting annoyed by it's contents, she slammed the book shut with a thud.

Both Harry and Ron looked over to her, questioning looks within their stares.

"I'm going to bed," she announced, "I'll see you both in the morning."

With that, Hermione exited the Gryffindor Common Room, her Transfiguration book, and romance novel in hand.

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xxx

Hermione entered the Head's Common room, and sat down on the sofa. She glared at the romance book in her hands. 'Why did I chose this book to read?' she asked herself, throwing it aside.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. 'I still- No, stop thinking about it,' she bereted herself, 'He's nothing to you, just like your obviously nothing to him.'

Tilting her head slightly, her mouth parted a bit as she took a breathe, and that's exactly how Draco found her as he waltzed into the Common Room.

He stood for a moment, and stared at her. She looked so innocent like that. Hearing the slam over the portrait door, he inwardly cursed.

Hermione jumped at the sound. Her eyes shot open, and she inhaled sharply. Her eyes flittered towards Draco for a brief moment, then she looked away. She picked up her books, then went to head towards her room.

"Hermione."

She stopped cold. Hermione turned around slowly. He had said her name with a neutral tone of voice, something he hadn't done in awhile.

"What is it?" she asked, rising her eyes to meet his own.

"You left this," he muttered, holding up her romance novel.

Trying not to blush, she reached to take the book from him, her hand brushing against his. Hermione couldn't ignored the jolt of electricity that went up her arm, and she immediately let go of the book as if it had been on fire. She wasn't the only one to feel something however.

Draco snatched his hand back at the same time Hermione did. He watched the novel fall to the ground. As it hit the floor, he moved his head up, and looked at Hermione's face.

She reached down, and took the book off the floor. With that, she turned on her heel, and was about to leave the room.

"Hermione," he stated again, in the same type of tone.

Sighing, she spun around to face him once again. "What do you want Malfoy?" she inquired.

"I think we need to talk Granger," he stated finally.

Hermione just looked at him in response, an eyebrow raised.

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Author's Note - Alright so I finally finished this part. The next chapter will be the last. Hope you enjoyed this installment. Please review and let me know your thoughts.

Thanks to my reviewers:

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Applola Snipp - thank you.

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ignorencereekstruth - I like the pen name, thanks.

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Monkeystarz - hehe, now all she needs to do is acknowledge it.

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bitterosemary - I'm glad you liked it.


	5. Part V :: Finale

Dimentichisi

Summary: Some things were just meant to be forgotten.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Part V : Finale

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"We have nothing to talk about," Hermione said in a deadpanned voice. She looked straight into his blank, gray eyes. Her own were much colder and harder then they normally were.

"Don't stand before me and look me in the eyes, only to lie to me Granger," Draco responded, his tone tight.

Huffing softly, Hermione went to turn on her heel, shaking her head as she did. She only took a few steps however, before Draco's arm shot out, and pulled her back hard against him.

Hermione stiffened at the contact, and tried to calm herself. His breath tickled the skin on the back of her neck, making the tiny, baby hairs stand on end.

"Do you want to go first, or will I?" he whispered.

Hermione turned her head away from him, and stepped out of his grasp. Her mind finally clearing. "What do you want me to say, Malfoy?" His surname coming out of her mouth like a curse.

Draco looked towards the floor, his finger drawing a design on the table. Glancing towards her, he replied, "What ever you want."

Hermione bit her lip in frustration. She wanted to hate him. She didn't though, not anymore. Tilting her head, she watched him a moment. His eyes were expectant, almost as if he assumed she would scream at him.

Calmly she took a step towards him, making sure she was cautious of everything around her. There was no need to get caught up in the moment or anything along **those **lines.

"Why?" she whispered quietly.

Draco frowned for a second, then sighed. He had anticipated the question, he just didn't expect her to be so blunt with it.

"Fear," he answered stiffly. It wasn't easy for him to admit he was afraid of something, or someone _per say_; he had too much pride.

"Draco Malfoy is admitting he's afraid of something? Someone mark tonight down in Hogwarts: A History," she told him sarcastically.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, his mere expression giving her the impression he wasn't at all amused.

Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she asked in a grave tone, "And what was it that you were afraid of?"

Draco sighed again, sitting himself down on the couch. Lazily lounged out, he looked up at her, one arm resting across the back of the couch. "My father," he said, giving her a response.

Hermione eyed him wearily. Settling herself on the edge of the couch, so that the two were eye level, she inquired, "Why?"

Draco's line of vision was momentarily diverted, trailing down her face to her lips. Flashes of what they felt like against his own rang throughout his mind. Shaking his head, as if knocking them away, he replied, "He found out we were "together" so to speak. He threatened, I relented, we broke it off, you went back to hating me, and so on, leading us to where we are at the present."

Hermione turned away from him, then stating softly, she spoke, "I didn't hate you."

"Then what would you call it?" he asked, folding his arms.

"I was just angry," she supplied, mimicking his actions.

Uncrossing his arms, Draco gave her a soft look. "And now?" he inquired.

His eyes caught hers, and she was unable to look away. "I," she started, inhaling sharply. She tried to keep her insides calm, yet nothing seemed to work. Her heart was racing at an increasing speed, and her breath was falling short. Amazing that all this happened because of _him_.

"I'm not angry anymore," she told him in a weak, controlled voice.

Draco smirked slightly, his hand came up and brushed her cheek softly, running down until it felt her long, brown, curly mane.

Hermione watched his actions out of the corner of her eye. Confused slightly, her head screamed at her to remove herself from him, from the situation,yet something wouldn't let her. It was almost as if she couldn't move.

Draco leaned in just a tad, letting his breath mingle with hers. Looking for any sign, Draco examined her face. Seeing only slight fear at what could happen, as well as hesitance, he did what he had been longing to do for weeks.

Capturing her lips with his, he pulled her closer, one hand going straight to her hair, the other around her waist, crushing her to him.

This was not a sweet, innocent, chaste kiss, in fact it was quite the opposite. Brutal, yearning, and desperate, it lasted until Hermione had to pull away from lack of breath.

Gasping softly, her breathing became normal. Hermione looked up at Draco, finding him already gazing at her. She looked deep into his cloudy-gray eyes, and saw two things she did not expect to see.

The first was confusion. She figured it had to do with her reaction. Was he waiting for her to smack him? Yell or scream?

The second however, seemed a little surreal for her, and took her a few moments to comprehend.

"You love me," she stated tenderly, watching his face become softer.

She saw the vulnerable, little boy that no one ever saw. The small child scared and insecure about his fate in the world, and it didn't make her question anything; if anything, it only made her more secure.

Draco turned away, and went to stand up, only to have his wrist jerked hard, pulling him back down.

"I love you too, you stupid prat," she told him, shaking her head, "Don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't," he promised, then relented, "but things aren't going to be easy."

"I already figured that out Draco," she affirmed, "Nothing with you is ever easy."

Scowling, he glared at her.

"I think it's time we told Harry and Ron," she suggested, "I want things to be different this time around."

Draco's scowl grew deeper. "Does this mean I actually have to be _deceit_ to the wankers?" he questioned.

"You could be nice," she said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe not," she rephrased, "but you could get along with them."

"I suppose **that** I could do," Draco agreed, "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to stop calling Potter, Scarhead, or make fun of Weasley for being poor, or calling him Weasel. I'm still going to hex them as-"

"Do shut up Draco," Hermione exclaimed, silencing him with a kiss.

Smiling against her mouth, Draco knew that everything horrid that had happened, every mistake that they, mostly he, had made in the past would not be forgiven quite yet, but he knew it would be forgotten, and for now, that was good enough for him.

xxx

Author's Note: I gave it a fluffy ending. Sort of surprised myself with this one. Hope you guys enjoyed this short fic, and I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. Today marks a whole year I have beenon fan fiction, and that makes this special. Please review and let me know what you thought. Also, go check out my new one-shot Breathe.

Thanks to my lovely reviewers:

Aquarius Chik 101

ignorencereekstruth - glad u liked it.

bitterosemary

lil-ms-sneaky - Hehe, I'm sorry to see this end because I had so much fun writing it.

Monkeystarz - Lol, of course I had to stop it there, or this one wouldn't have been as appealing.

sammantha-da-teapot - Here's the rest, hope it gets rid of the deprivation


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